


Errors of Judgement

by Miss_Mil



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Moonshine, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mil/pseuds/Miss_Mil
Summary: What happens when the Captain has a little bit too much moonshine? Captain pips go flying, sore heads are in abundance and poor attitudes all around!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting unfinished on my hard drive since 2011, and well, I died to finish it. Originally, I toyed with the idea of re-writing the start of the fic, but decided to leave it where it was. Enjoy! Inspired by that time I had a little too much moonshine...

* * *

Kathryn made her way toward her quarters, using the walls of the corridors to support her before she fell over. There was a rather annoying thumping in her head, the pounding only becoming worse the longer she remained upright.

Something in the alcohol a certain Mr Paris had made was spectacularly potent and it had taken Kathryn only three glasses before she realised that she was going to be completely and utterly drunk by the end of the evening.

She knew there was a reason why she didn’t allow spontaneous parties on board but Neelix’s plea and smiling face was too hard to refuse.

Now, she was paying for it.

Tomorrow morning, she would have on hell of a hangover.

The Doctor could have her fixed in an instant, but Kathryn knew there was no way she could even make it to sickbay and she wasn’t in the mood to put up with a lecture about how she shouldn’t drink so much.

Managing to reach the door of her quarters, Kathryn stared at her keypad frantically trying to remember the various codes of numbers that allowed her access to her quarters. The thumping in her head grew worse and she leaned heavily against the doorframe, closing her eyes.

If she couldn’t remember the entry code to her quarters she could either go to sickbay to face the wrath of the Doctor, stay out here in the corridor or…get Chakotay to open the doors for her. He should be back in his quarters; he’d left the party at least an hour before her.

Spurred on by the thought of reaching her bed, Kathryn turned as quickly as her spinning world would allow her and marched the few paces down to Chakotay’s door. She rang the chime, silently hoping he was awake and would answer the door because she _really_ couldn’t remember her override code.

A few seconds past and Kathryn leant against the doorframe again, resting her forehead on her fist as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The swish of the doors opening sounded loudly and she groaned, pressing her fist harder into her temple.

‘Kathryn?’ his deep voiced echoed throughout the corridor and she winced.

‘Shhh don’t yell I’m right here!’ she whispered, bouncing off the wall and covering her ears with both hands.

Chakotay chuckled and grasped her around her slim shoulders, pulling her inside and ordering the computer to switch on lights. Kathryn squinted her eyes and blinked rapidly, staring at him with unfocused and cloudy eyes.

It was the first time that she noticed Chakotay was bare-chested and his hair was slightly tousled from sleep.

‘Did…did I wake…wake you up?’ she frowned as she stumbled over the words, hiccupping and grasping his forearm to help her remain upright.

‘I’d only just gone to bed. It’s alright,’ he spoke softly to her as he removed her hand from his arm. Having it resting there was just too tempting.

Kathryn wobbled slightly as she tried to make her way over to the sofa, ignoring Chakotay’s strange look when she managed to trip over an invisible spot on the carpet.

She was definitely more drunk than she first thought.

Flopping down with a thud, Kathryn looked up at Chakotay and shut her eyes immediately as the direct light caused the pounding in her head to skyrocket.

‘Just how much did you drink of Tom’s moonshine?’ Chakotay chuckled, sitting down beside her.

Kathryn managed a half-hearted glare in his direction, swooning again before managing a small snort. ‘This isn’t funny. My head feels like there is a little war going on in there.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘Stop smirking at me, Commander. By my reasoning you should be just as drunk as I am,’ she prodded his chest with her slender finger as hard as she could manage, her words slurring slightly.

‘I don’t drink Kathryn, you know that.’

Kathryn glared at him for a second, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Maybe you should start. We can suffer together. That’s what friends do.’

A flicker of something passed through his dark eyes and she was almost sure she had imagined it as it was gone by the time he answered her. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. One friend gets drunk and the other is here to pick them up off the floor.’

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ she accused, trying to stay serious but failing miserably.

Chakotay grinned and nodded. A drunken Kathryn Janeway was something he had wanted to experience for a long while, if only so he could store this one away in the box titled “Memories of Kathryn Janeway”.

Her eyes began to feel droopy and she blinked rapidly, trying desperately to clear her vision. She knew she had to get out of here; his bare chest was far too tempting and she was far too drunk to be thinking clearly.

Leaning forward, her head thumped softly onto the muscles of his chest, the coolness of it doing wonders for her splitting headache. Her eyes fell shut as she listened to the beating of his heart; its rhythm steady and strong, lulling her into a state of sleep.

‘Is there a reason why you came to my quarters?’ his voice rumbled deep in his chest and although said with a joking manner, she couldn’t help put pick up on the uncertainty hidden behind his words.

Kathryn mumbled incoherently and her warm breath tickled his skin.

This was rapidly turning into a bad situation.

Chakotay placed his hands on her shoulders and lifted her back as gently as he could. He peered into her half open eyes and smiled inwardly. Kathryn would be absolutely horrified at their current situation but fortunately for Chakotay, she would most likely not remember much in the morning.

‘I forgot my code,’ she mumbled again, head lulling forward on her own chest.

Chakotay smiled. In the few seconds that it took him to stand up and gently hold Kathryn upright, she had already fallen asleep. He picked her up gently and began to make his way toward her quarters.

He was _so_ tempted to just leave her in his bed.

But he wasn’t having _that_ conversation with a hungover Janeway.

Holding her up and keying in her code was not easy but, she didn’t weigh a lot. Within seconds, she had managed to wriggle her way around him so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms hugged his neck.

He held her to him as he made his way through the darkness of her quarters, unwilling to turn on the lights for fear of waking her. Chakotay swallowed heavily and shifted Kathryn. Carrying her was messing with his senses. It was the closet he had been to her since New Earth.

The contact was something he had missed desperately.

Kathryn began to stir and she leaned into his neck, her lips running dangerously close to his skin and he briefly wondered if, even in her current state, she could feel his pulse jumping. She pulled back suddenly, her arms disappearing from around his neck as she surveyed him through bleary eyes.

‘I really like your hair,’ she said matter-of-factly, taking both hands and running them through his thick tresses.

She moved so suddenly that Chakotay was forced to use both hands around her waist to support her. ‘Um, thanks,’ he mumbled, a blush creeping up his neck.

‘Nope,’ she hiccupped.  ‘I really, _really_ love your hair.’

One hand played with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck whilst the other came around the trace the indigo lines of his tattoo. ‘And this…’ she continued, her words slurring together. ‘This is so…mmm.’

Chakotay smiled awkwardly as she trailed off, commenting on various parts of his face and neck, most of the words too slurred for him to make out clearly.

‘No more moonshine for you Captain,’ he joked to her half-conscious form.

They made it to her bedroom before she moved rapidly again, flinging her head back to glare at him unsteadily. ‘I like moonshine,’ she drawled.

Chakotay chuckled. ‘Why is that? You won’t like it tomorrow morning when you wake up with a hangover.’

Kathryn giggled. ‘Hangover, yeah right.’

Her words became unclear again and all Chakotay managed to discern was ‘brave’ and ‘kiss’.

Her mouth crashed onto his so hard that he stumbled backwards into the wall beside her bed. He frantically tried to think of a way to push her back off his gently without using his hands as they were both still occupied holding Kathryn to him.

Her hands wound their way around his neck again and she hung on tightly, kissing him with as much force and passion that she could muster.

Chakotay knew this was dangerous territory. If he pushed her back away, she could take it the wrong way and end up feeling worse than she already did, but if he didn’t do something now, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to hold back and he didn’t want to face the possibility of telling Kathryn in the morning that they had done something she might regret.

That, and he could never take advantage of her in her current state.

His dilemma seemed to be solved for him when Kathryn pulled back and placed her head back on his chest, her eyes drooping closed again. He could have sworn he heard something like ‘damn’ before she dozed off again.

Chakotay still stood against the wall, panting and out of breath. That was the strangest experience he had ever had at the hands of Kathryn Janeway. He was certainly not expecting that when she showed up outside his quarters earlier.

Not that he minded but it would have been better Kathryn wasn’t completely inebriated.

Shaking his head, he cleared his mind and locked the moment away to analyse later. Much later, when Kathryn wasn’t still clinging to him and her lips weren’t brushing over his neck each time she mumbled in her sleep.

Pulling back the covers on her bed, he placed her there gently and removed her boots and socks with her jacket and turtleneck. He stood for several minutes staring at her unconscious form and wondering if she would mind him taking her pants off as well.

Gritting his teeth and deciding that there was no alternative, he took her pants off as quickly as possible, desperately trying to keep his eyes from wandering over her legs.

He was going to have a fair bit of explaining to do tomorrow morning.

Satisfied that she was sleeping soundly, Chakotay made his way over to her replicator and got a glass of water before ordering a detox hypospray from the Doctor and leaving them by her bed. She was going to need it in the morning.

* * *

Kathryn groaned and rolled over. She felt like she had been hit by a shuttle twice over. That was the last time she was ever, _ever_ going to touch Tom Paris’ moonshine. In fact, she made a silent promise to herself to stay away from any sort of alcohol for the next sixty or seventy years.

Her mouth was dry and scratchy and her tongue felt like it was twice the normal size. Her head was thumping wildly and the small strip of light coming from under the door was enough to make her groan and roll over, burying her head under the covers.

She definitely did not want to be the Captain today. Staying under the covers in the dark and sleeping the day away seemed like a good idea.

A movement and small noise coming from the other end of her quarters caught her attention and she dove out of bed quickly, making it half way across the room before regretting her decision immensely. The room span around her so fast that she was instantly reaching for the nearest solid object in order to stabilise her centre of gravity.

‘Oh man,’ she mumbled, gripping her head with one hand. ‘That was a bad idea.’

‘Get up too fast?’ his smug voice resounded throughout the room and Kathryn narrowed her eyes at the floor.

‘Funny. Very funny,’ she groaned, slowly raising her head to face him.

Chakotay grinned, barely supressing a smirk. ‘I did warn you about the hangover last night. I’m not sure if you remember it though.’

If possible, her glare darkened and she took a wobbly step toward him, her eyes coming level with a bare chest. ‘Exactly _how_ much did I drink last night?’

Raising his eyebrows, Chakotay gave a mild shrug.

‘Remind me to ban Tom Paris from ever making alcohol again, and demote him to Crewman at the first opportunity,’ Kathryn hissed out through clenched teeth, grasping on to Chakotay’s shoulder for support.

He stood rooted to the spot as her gip tightened on his shoulders and he found himself thinking of another situation entirely. One that he would rather not have present in his mind at this point, considering Kathryn was standing right in front of him and still swaying slightly.

As if sensing his confliction, and realising their current state, Kathryn pulled back rapidly and Chakotay saw her rigid composure slip back into place.

‘Thank you for everything Commander. I appreciate you helping me and I apologise for having to put you through this. I assure you, I’ll be alright now.’

Just like that, she dismissed him.

The Captain was taking over, and monitoring the situation intensely. She had the same look on her face that she got whenever their interactions got too personal, or too compromising. She had done the same to him on New Earth – no thanks to the timing of one Vulcan - and she was doing it to him now.

The only difference was four years and a few more close calls.

Chakotay stood rooted to the spot. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Kathryn’s gaze darkened and she looked at him closely. His face was just as unreadable as her own.

‘No.’

She blinked. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I said no, Kathryn.’

Her eyes narrowed. She was contemplating her next move; he could see it. She wore the same expression as when she was facing down the Kazon, or the Devore Imperium.

‘That’s an unacceptable answer,’ she said coolly, her chin raising slightly to challenge his own stare.

Chakotay sighed. ‘Kathryn,’ he started, but she cut him off.

‘I think it’s better you address me as Captain, Commander.’

He resisted the urge to run his hand over his face.

‘Very well, _Captain,’_ he emphasised the word strongly. ‘You are my friend, and I will stay here until I am satisfied that you are well.’

She was struggling to stay standing. ‘Commander, this is not the first time a human has become… intoxicated. I will be perfectly fine.’

Chakotay turned and sat down on her couch. ‘Well, you can let me help you or I will call the Doctor. Your choice.’

It was a risky move, to outwardly challenge her.

She seemed to consider her options for a moment. ‘I am going to shower. You had better be gone when I return.’

She turned quicker than Chakotay would have thought she was capable of, and headed in the general direction of her bathroom.

He intended to stay exactly where he was.

* * *

In the end, he had to move eventually. Tuvok had called them both to the bridge and duty had resumed as normal. It seemed that the Captain was not the only one who had indulged in a little too much moonshine at the party the evening before.

Paris was uncommonly quiet, and Harry had barely moved a muscle in the last twenty minutes.

Chakotay was positive that Kathryn hadn’t taken her detox hypospray, and he could see the pain in her head radiating from behind her eyes.

He could _almost_ feel sorry for her.

But in all honesty, he was getting tired of her attitude. And she wasn’t the only one with a sore head on the bridge.

The tension between them was barely visible to anyone else. But for Chakotay, it almost consumed him.

He couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind.

If Kathryn had any memory of it, she certainly hadn’t mentioned it.

He seriously doubted she would.

In the wise words of Tuvok, there was no easy way to get over an infatuation.

But for Chakotay it was much more. _So_ much more than infatuation.

His emotional attachment to this woman was insane.

Kathryn shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and holding her head in a hand, the other cradling a long-cold cup of coffee.

‘Can I get you anything, Captain?’

Her eyes flicked sideways before she slowly lifted her head toward him. The death glare was menacing.

‘No.’

He rubbed his hands together, shrugging at her slightly.

Tom gave them a backward glance.

He wanted to tell her to quite frankly, piss off back to her quarters until she decided to be in a more cooperative mood.

Although he could only utter those words if he didn’t mind spending the rest of the trip in the brig.

Still, it wouldn’t be the worst place to go.

The urge to somehow get her into the ready room so they could hash this out was overwhelming. But he didn’t want to have this conversation anywhere near the bridge.

Their relationship had really been turbulent over the last few years. At first, it had started with a few friendly gestures, and something resembling flirtation at times before the overwhelming loyalty to a man back home saw her captain’s mask fall back down.

He’d thought after the incident with the Borg, and then the woman who claimed to have loved him, that their relationship had plateaued out. There had been nothing more than a few vibes of sexual tension that had really ebbed before they’d developed fully.

And then there was the incident with the fight. He couldn’t forget the way her hand had hovered on his thigh, his chest and then finally his cheek. The way she looked at him showed him that there was still something there.

For him, the feelings had never really gone away. But he was content to be guided by Kathryn. He knew the regulations, inside and out; a Captain could not approach a subordinate with the proposition of a relationship.

And whilst they were on _Voyager_ , nothing would change that.

But they were going to be out here a long time.

Eventually she’d have to face the reality that she was going be alone.

And so, he would too be alone.

His bed could only stay that way for so long before he too would need to find some companionship, although his loyalty would always be to Kathryn.

Her attitude was wearing thin with him.

He needed something from her. _Anything_ to acknowledge that what they had was real.

And he would wait forever for her.

* * *

And so, he’d made a resolve that he would deal with it right after the shift had ended. He rang her door chime, and waited an acceptable amount of time to press it again when she failed to acknowledge it the first time.

He knew she was home, the computer had informed him so only moments before he’d exited his own quarters. He’d be damned if he was going to stand outside her quarters for hours waiting for her to quit playing chicken and answer the damn door.

‘Kathryn.’

He spoke her name loudly and clearly.

He could almost hear the sigh as the door finally slid open. Obviously, she had determined he wasn’t going away.

He stepped across the threshold, the doors swishing shut behind him. She was seated on her couch, legs tucked up underneath herself with a book in her hand. She looked marginally better than this morning, although she looked like she was still in pain.

‘Sit down, Commander.’

‘I think it would be better if you called me Chakotay.’ He didn’t move, but levelled his eyes with hers.

She gave a barely perceptible inclination of her head with a not-so-subtle sigh. ‘Chakotay.’

The word sounded strange coming from her mouth; she hadn’t used his given name for some time. The previous nights’ events the exception of course.

‘What can I do for you?’

He straightened up, levelling his shoulders and striding toward her confidently. She hadn’t moved.

‘I actually came to talk to you.’

She held up her hand. ‘Chakotay, if you came to discuss my behaviour in the last day, it is I who must apologise before you go any further. It was out of line. It won’t happen again, and I appreciate everything you did for me last night.’

Chakotay nodded. ‘Very well.’

The silence stretched out between them as she stared at him, trying to decipher his motives behind the easy acceptance of her apology.

In truth, he was trying to decide if he should bring up that kiss.

Clearly, her memory was either defective or she was studiously avoiding the issue.

‘Was there something else?’

The silence got the better of her.

‘Well, yes,’ he answered her prudently. ‘I wanted to discuss us.’

She sat up straighter, the blanket on her lap falling to the floor. She ignored it.

‘What?’

He moved slowly, taking a seat opposite her and laying the book she’d also dropped on the table between them. The title caught his attention. ‘Classical poetry?’

She shrugged. ‘It helps me relax,’ she flicked her fingers on the side of her cheek. ‘Well it was, until you came in here and started talking about hard subjects.’

He inwardly winced, but remained outwardly calm.

‘We need to talk about this, Kathryn. Quite frankly your attitude is becoming hard to tolerate.’

‘My attitude?’ she bristled.

‘Yes, and I’m growing tired of it. As are the crew.’

He could see she was resisting the urge to stand, to assert her authority over the situation and get back some form of control. ‘The crew? Has something been said?’ She sat up straighter, worry creasing her brow.

‘No,’ he said, folding his hands on his lap. ‘but I feel you should be aware that your behaviour has not gone unnoticed.’

‘Is this because I had a little too much moonshine at Tom’s party?’

Chakotay smiled. ‘Also no. Although I will admit the crew was happy to see the Captain a little carefree.’

She snorted. ‘Intoxicated, you mean?’

‘I was going to say anything.’

She stood abruptly, moving to the replicator. ‘Coffee?’

‘Tea would be better, thanks.’

Ordering their drinks, she came back quietly, feet padding softly on the carpet of her quarters.

‘Kathryn, this journey has been hard on all of us. But I meant what I said three years ago. You don’t have to do this alone.’

He wanted to yell at her, scream and shake her until she saw the sense he was trying to almost force into her. But his voice was steady, and his demeanour calm.

He wasn’t going to win this by fighting her.

‘I need you to know that no matter what, you can always talk to me.’

Her face was unreadable. The coffee was sitting on the table.

‘I appreciate the sentiment.’

Chakotay sighed. He was getting nowhere.

‘You can’t be alone out here forever,’ his statement was blunt, and straight to the point.

‘I can try?’ she offered weakly. ‘I am sorry about last night. It won’t happen again.’

He placed his empty cup on the table, the tea now long gone. He wanted to push her back into that chair, and hold her there. He wanted to kiss her until she finally gave in and began to see sense. He wanted so desperately to cover her body with his own, and never let her go.

He wanted so desperately to tell her that it was okay for the Captain to let loose every once in a while, that Kathryn sometimes needed to get blind drunk before she could see what was in front of her.

That it took every ounce of his self-control to let her kiss him and then walk away.

But she was so closed off. And he wasn’t going to embarrass her by mentioning their little embrace.

Couldn’t she see how desperately he needed something? Anything? A sign from her that she felt the same way?

She stood up from the chair, picking up the blanket from the floor and folding it neatly. He recognised the design from one of his own computer programs, the checks and weaves imitating native American patterns. It looked strangely out of place in her otherwise modern quarters.

He stood himself, grabbing both their cups and heading to the recycle unit. Her coffee was still untouched.

Their conversation was far from over.

Although it was by far easier to walk out that door, he’d made a promise to himself.

He turned around, and ran into Kathryn.

She stumbled backwards a few steps. ‘Sorry, I am–‘

‘Still slightly drunk?’ he smiled, holding her shoulders.

Her eyes narrowed. She straightened up, squaring her shoulders as his hands slipped from them. ‘Goodnight, Commander.’

‘Don’t dismiss me, Kathryn,’ he said firmly.

She looked like she was about to argue, before her shoulders slumped and she stood back.

‘It’s nice, you know,’ she spoke, the corners of her mouth lifting.

‘What?’

‘Hearing someone say my name. I’m always known as the Captain’

She sounded so sad. He could almost see the tears forming in her eyes, threatening to spill over. The internal war was never ending, and she was slowly losing the battle. She was too strong to cry so sadly.

But the tears never fell.

He wanted to tell her she was only known as “the Captain” because she’d made it that way.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the moment her eyes met his, he made his decision.

He pushed her back against the wall near her door, crowding her space and towering over her. Her eyes were dark, dilated and her breathing was heavy. He was infatuated by the way her teeth kept coming out to nibble at her bottom lip.

Hands on either side of her shoulders, he leant in closer. ‘You can say no, Kathryn,’ he breathed.

He could see the way the fine hairs on her neck stood up as his breath rushed over her, but her eyes still looked a little sad.

Her hand was playing with the collar of his shirt at the base of his neck, the other one against the wall where his own hand encircled her wrist. She made no move to get away. He couldn’t figure out if she was allowing this out of pity, some self-sacrificing decision to make sure she could still _feel_.

But he found that he didn’t give a damn anymore.

Her eyes flicked upwards, meeting his own briefly before flittering to his mouth. ‘No,’ she whispered slowly, unconvincingly.

His mouth met hers gently, waiting for her to make the final move. It wasn’t harsh, and he had no intention of taking this any further. But it was going to take all of his self-restraint.

She covered his mouth intensely, her tongue running along his upper lip and coaxing his mouth open. He kept his lips firmly closed, taking charge of the situation and letting her know that he was toying with her.

His lips broke away ever so slightly, and she followed him without restraint.

A free hand hooked into the waistband of her loose trousers, his thumb grazing over the skin of her hip bone.

She moaned into his mouth.

He moved his hips around, angling them away from her so she couldn’t feel his growing arousal. He pulled back gently, breaking their contact but still holding her wrist.

‘I am not going to take advantage of you, Kathryn,’ he said seriously.

The look in her face told him that was _exactly_ what she wanted at this point in time.

She inhaled sharply, holding it in before breathing out slowly. He could feel his own body involuntarily doing the same. The need to kiss her again was consuming.

He let her wrist go, noting with a pang that there were red marks on her skin from his fingers. He hadn’t realised he had been holding so tightly.

Sardonically, he thought that at least, before she slept tonight, she would definitely have something to real feel.

She fixed her pants discreetly where his hand had pushed it down slightly, and then smoothed her hair on one side. Her lips were tinged red, and her teeth still nibbled on that one corner; her tongue darting out to taste what was left of him.

He was finding her utterly tantalising.

‘One day you can,’ she husked out, moving back away from the wall near her door.  

Eyes followed him as he left her quarters, and he struggled to sleep later, knowing she was on the other side of the wall.

He refused to give in to the temptation to find his own release, punishing himself with her final words.

That elusive promise of _one day_.

* * *

Kathryn stumbled down the corridor to her quarters, leaning heavily on the door frame as she tried desperately to remember her entry code. She could briefly remember this moment almost two years ago when Tom’s moonshine had gotten her intoxicated.

In truth, she was probably more drunk this time around.

She punched a series of numbers into the pad, waiting for the doors to open. A red light and a noise told her the code was incorrect.

Dammit.

‘Kathryn?’

The doors to her quarters swished open.

‘Shhh, don’t yell,’ she moaned.

Chakotay laughed, his deep timbre echoing in the corridor.

‘Too much moonshine again, Kathryn?’

She tried unsuccessfully to narrow her eyes, before stumbling past him into her quarters. Her boots came off as she flicked her legs in either direction, holding on to the back of her favourite chair as she tried not to sway.

Her jacket was half off, one arm still stuck in the sleeve before she gave up and turned to her first officer who still stood by the door. She had no doubt that in this moment she looked decidedly _un_ -captain like.

‘Need some help?’

She rolled her eyes as he came toward her, noting with interest that he had already divested himself of his shoes.

He took her arm gently, removing the jacket with care before draping it over the chair she was still desperately clinging to.

‘Haven’t we been here before?’ he asked, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smile.

She leant into him slightly, steadying herself with one hand on his arm. ‘Mm I think so.’ She started to pull against her turtleneck, the pips on her collar flying off and onto the floor. ‘Whoops.’

Chakotay bent down and picked them up, holding them in one hand. ‘How about I mind these for you, Captain?’

She smiled broadly at him. ‘You can keep ‘em,’ she said, waving her hands. ‘Won’t need ‘em after tomorrow!’

He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘And why is that?’

Smirking, she answered in broken tones. ‘Oh, something… something about taking… taking advantage of _Voyager’s_ Captain.’ She was beginning to sway dangerously. 

‘I don’t think the Admirals of Starfleet would be terribly impressed with the great Kathryn Janeway turning up drunk to tomorrow’s homecoming.’

She swatted his arm playfully, missing her mark but a fair distance. ‘Oh, who will tell them Commander, you?’

He unzipped her tank top gently, laying it down by her jacket.

‘Besides,’ she whispered loudly. ‘Nobody knows you’re here.’

‘No,’ he smiled. ‘But if you keep drinking moonshine like this I might be forced to call the Doctor.’

‘We have one more night in space, Chakotay,’ she said solemnly. ‘If Starfleet is going to make us hold here at DS-three then they can’t expect the crew not to get a little tipsy!’

‘The crew? Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Their Captain? Probably not.’

She shrugged her shoulders. Memories of the last two years flittered through in flashes, and the end of their journey seemed to weigh heavily on her mind. They’d all lost so much, she briefly felt selfish for finally allowing herself this indulgence.

And she didn’t mean the alcohol.

Chakotay took her hand and pulled her forward.

The giddiness of the moonshine was starting to turn rapidly into self-pity and sadness.

He stepped forward, crowding her and pulling her into his chest. His arms wrapped around her as he spoke into her hair. ‘You did it Kathryn. You brought us home.’

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to fall. The last time they’d been here, she’d been pissed as hell at her first officer’s insolent attitude toward her and they’d ended up against the wall, kissing like hormonal teenagers.

But it had been _so_ much more; raw and fraught with emotion.

And this was precisely why she should stick to synthenol.

She held onto him for a while, her hands clutching at the muscles on his back, hidden beneath the Starfleet-issue jacket he’d worn for seven years. She had a sudden urge to rip it from him.

Stepping back, her hands found the zipper and fumbled clumsily with the fabric.

His hands enclosed her own, removing them slowly from his jacket.

For a brief moment, the sudden feeling of rejection descended upon her.

‘I thought I told you one day,’ she whispered quietly, her eyes downcast.

‘You did,’ he answered, bringing her hands up to his lips.

She looked at him, rising her eyebrows in question.

‘And whilst I plan on taking full advantage this time of you Kathryn, I would prefer it if you weren’t quite so drunk.’

She felt the need to hug him again. ‘I am only _slightly_ drunk, Commander.’

‘You have definitely had more this time,’ he said as he stepped back toward the replicator. ‘And this time, I would very much like it if I didn’t have to carry you to bed, and have you kiss me before promptly falling asleep with no memory of it the next day,’ he chided her softly.

She stood for a moment, bringing her hands to her hips and frowning. ‘I don’t –‘

‘Remember that?’ he finished for her, bringing a detox-hypo to her from the replicator. ‘You know, that’s the funny thing that happens to you when you drink too much of Tom Paris’ moonshine.’

She smiled softly up at him. ‘I am glad we are home.’

‘Me too.’

 

Fin.

* * *

 


End file.
